


and again

by Anonymous



Series: bearing [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, Established Relationship, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Din Djarin, M/M, Pregnancy, Trans Din Djarin, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Din falls pregnant again, and this time he has someone to help him through it.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Series: bearing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147220
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112
Collections: Anonymous





	and again

**Author's Note:**

> this is a follow-up to _fatherhood, again_ although you don't have to read that. if you don't, all you need to know is that din got pregnant via the power of the force first time around. he's doing it the old-fashioned way this time.

He shouldn't have been surprised really. After all, he had managed to conceive a child through nothing more than the power of his own emotions. So to go to bed with Cobb, thinking that he didn't need to take any birth control because _surely_ it wouldn't happen again—well. 

It's harder, this time around. His morning sickness is worse, and seems to last all day rather than come in the intermittent bursts it had when he was pregnant with Lahri. Right now he's curled up on the floor of the 'fresher, whining while Cobb runs a hand through his hair. Stars, if it had been this rough before, he'd never have—

That's a thought he doesn't even bother finishing. Despite how awful he feels right now, this baby is wanted. So wanted. Just like their sister. 

"Come on darlin'," Cobb says. "Let's get you back to bed."

Cobb had proposed the moment Din told him he was pregnant. So here he is. Being tended to by his husband of barely six weeks, still in the throes of a whirlwind romance. 

He throws up over Cobb's feet as soon as he manages to stand, and does feel some small relief. Cobb just laughs. 

* * *

He starts showing a lot sooner this time. One day his belly is—well, not quite _flat,_ but how it normally looks, and the next it's really rounding out, making fastening his trousers that much more difficult. Lahri looks at him curiously when he runs his hand back and forth over his bump, and he picks her up. 

"You," he says, "are going to be a big sister." 

He can feel her confusion radiate through that bond that they still share, that connection that unites their minds and bares their emotions to each other. _Sister,_ he says. _Like how Grogu is your big brother._

She nuzzles her head against his neck, giving no outward sign of having understood him. Well, she is only fourteen months old. Din can feel it though, her wordless acknowledgement. Her excitement. 

“We’ll send a message to Luke,” he says. “To tell your brother.” 

* * *

One night, he wakes to find that he feels giddy with happiness, full of wonder at the slightest thing. In his sleepy haze, it takes him a minute to realise that those emotions aren’t _his._

He’d wondered if he would experience the same kind of connection he had with Lahri when he was carrying her. He’d assumed that it was the Force at work, the magic that made her serving as the medium for their link. It seems though, that this is something that Din can do by himself—and he makes a mental note to _never_ mention it in front of Luke.

He sinks back into the pillows, and lets his kid’s emotions wash over him. This child seems different to Lahri—less headstrong, a gentler presence. They’re so happy though, and Din can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. 

* * *

"You look good," Cobb says. 

Five months in, and Din finally feels it. He rests a hand on his stomach, which is now unmistakably pregnant-looking, even through the baggy sweatshirt he's wearing. "It's your doing," he says to Cobb. "I suppose you feel quite smug." 

"Oh, it was your doing too sweetheart," Cobb says. "In fact, I remember it very, very well." 

Din leans back against the kitchen counter, and pulls Cobb close. "You know, I think I might have forgotten," he says. "You're going to have to remind me." 

Cobb spreads his hands over Din's ever-expanding middle, and kisses him. They don't make it to the bedroom—which, incidentally, is just how it happened the first time around. 

* * *

"I wonder who they'll look like," Cobb says. The baby is kicking away, their movements visible through the thin material of Din's shirt. Lahri watches, enraptured. Din brings one of her little hands to his stomach, and she yelps in surprise when her sibling gives a very spirited kick to her palm. Cobb leans over to ruffle her hair, and she lets out a delighted giggle. "Stars, she's so like you," he says. 

"She's all me," Din says. "There was no one else for her to look like." Lahri rests her head against his stomach, and Din strokes her head of messy curls. "I would have been pretty worried if she _didn't._ " 

Cobb hums in agreement. “Still. I hope this one looks a little like me.” He slips a hand under Din’s shirt, feeling their child move. “What does it feel like?” he asks. “When they kick you like that?”

“Weird,” Din says. “I can’t even describe it.” 

“Good though?” says Cobb

“Yeah,” Din says. “It’s the best feeling in the world.” 

* * *

Din sits there on the sofa, a plate balanced on the top of his belly. Lahri pats his stomach, making the plate wobble at its perch. “Baba,” she says. She looks at Din, her brown eyes wide. “ _Baba,_ ” she repeats. 

“Mhmm,” Din hums in response. He reaches for another couple of pieces of fruit from the plate, and passes one to Lahri before popping the other in his own mouth. “They’ll be here in a few weeks.” He feels strangely apprehensive at the thought, and his emotions must bleed through the bonds he shares with his children. Lahri’s bottom lip wobbles, and he feels a hint of sadness from the kid in his belly. “I can’t wait,” he says, correcting himself—and he does mean that. It’s just going to be a lot, having two children under the age of two to look after. Still, he isn’t on his own anymore. 

He moves the plate, and Lahri curls up to his chest as close as his belly will allow. He presses a kiss to her head, and rubs a hand over his belly. They fall asleep like that, and it’s close to nightfall when Cobb wakes him up with a gentle shake of his shoulder. 

* * *

The weeks speed by in a blur. One minute they have a decent stretch of time before the baby is set to arrive, and then all of a sudden it’s a matter of days. Din feels tired more often than not now, and he doesn’t even feel irritated when Cobb goes to do everything for him. It’s nice—to be looked after. He’d been alone for so long, and now all of a sudden, he has a husband. Two children, soon to be three. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky—but he’s not going to try and second-guess any of it. 

* * *

He's so ready for this baby to be born. Nine days ago, his due date passed without incident. His back is killing him. He feels so full, and heavy, and the pressure in the cradle of his hips is constant. He's pretty sure he’s the size of a bantha, despite all of Cobb’s assurances that he’s never looked better. _Hah._

He rubs a hand over the taut skin of his belly, and the baby shifts in response. Lahri had been so restless in the days before he went into labour with her, kicking constantly, bombarding him with her emotions. This child, in contrast, seems perfectly settled where they are, moving gently and radiating contentment. _We really do want to meet you,_ Din thinks. _So whenever you're ready, little one._

He makes his way to the kitchen, his gait slow and clumsy now the baby has moved down and further altered his centre of gravity. He lets out a shaky breath when his stomach tightens a little. He's been having practice contractions for a while now—he doesn't dare hope that this could be the real thing. 

He lowers himself onto his birthing ball, a frankly inspired purchase that he's eternally thankful to the midwife for suggesting. He doesn't know how long he sits there before he hears Cobb's footsteps from down the hallway. 

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks Din. 

Din shakes his head. "Your kid's keeping me up. This is _hell_ ," he says with great feeling. He bounces up and down, and lets out a sigh at some of the relief that brings. "They're entirely unbothered about making an appearance."

"Guess they're just too comfy in there," Cobb says. He crouches down, and presses his hands to the swell of Din's belly, then his lips. Din runs a hand through his hair, and smiles. Just like before, when he was pregnant with Lahri, he feels more uncomfortable than he thought possible—and still, he’ll miss it. Not that he’ll admit that to Cobb. 

* * *

The contractions Din didn't dare hope were the real thing turn out to be exactly that, and by morning he's well and truly in the grip of labour. He's so relieved, he barely registers the pain. Cobb drops Lahri off at Jo's, calls Luke, and then there's nothing to do but wait. Din walks around the house, pausing to brace his hands against the wall or to grip at Cobb's shoulders, his head pressed to his chest. 

"You're amazing," Cobb tells him, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Just incredible." 

The midwife arrives when the contractions are coming thick and fast. All those months ago, when he was labouring alone in the cockpit of his ship, he'd been scared towards the end. He hadn't realised it then, but now, with the midwife's gentle encouragement and Cobb's kisses against his hair, he sees how lonely Lahri's birth had been. 

Time seems to slow down, and Din can do nothing more than pant and groan and move, trusting the fact that his body just seems to know what to do and when. The suns rise. The suns set. He winds his arms around Cobb's shoulders and breathes against his neck. They stay like that, kneeling on the kitchen floor, as the midwife tells Din when to push and when to hold back. He hardly hears her—this he knows how to do, falling back on muscle memory and pure instinct. 

All of a sudden, he's gritting his teeth and swearing as he pushes, and pushes, and pushes, and—

He looks at Cobb, eyes wide. “Oh, oh, they’re—” and he feels the baby slip free of him, so easily he can barely believe it. 

"It's a girl!" the midwife says. Din turns, and sags against Cobb’s chest. He reaches for his daughter, taking her from the midwife's arms. She looks like Lahri—but her eyes, the slight upwards curve of her mouth—they're unmistakably Cobb's. Din’s crying, just like he did when Lahri was born, and he knows without even looking that Cobb is too. 

* * *

He sits up in bed, his new daughter curled up against his bare chest. Her tiny hands flex over the scars running under his pectorals, and she blinks those big, hazel-brown eyes open. She’s been an easy baby so far, hardly ever crying. Just taking the world in one day at a time. She’ll need a name, of course. Cobb likes Lierra, and Din likes how it sounds alongside Lahri.

“I was thinking,” Din says when Cobb comes into the room. “Lierra. It’s nice.” 

“It suits her,” Cobb says. He shifts Lahri so she’s perched on his hip properly. “What do you think of that?” Cobb asks her. “Your sister, Lierra?” 

Lahri pulls a face in response, which Din supposes is as good as they’re going to get this close to naptime. “Get her settled,” he says. “Then come and sit with me for a little while.” 

The baby—no, _Lierra_ —makes a soft little noise when Cobb climbs into bed with them a few minutes later. She grabs at his fingers, and Cobb laughs. “Hey, little lady,” he says. “We’re so glad you’re here.” He presses a kiss to Din’s cheek. “Thank you,” he says. 

Din frowns. “For what?” 

“For carrying her for nine months. For doing _that_ four days ago. All of it.” He runs a hand over Lierra’s spiky little tufts of dark hair. “Thank you for Lahri too. Grogu, _stars,_ everything.” He turns Din’s head towards him so he can kiss him on the lips, easy and unhurried. “Thank you for coming back.”

* * *

Luke arrives with Grogu the next day. 

When Lahri had first met Grogu, they had looked at each other with open curiosity. Lahri had been barely three months old, and had curled one of her tiny hands around the edge of Grogu’s ear. Grogu had made a questioning little noise, and had looked at Din for something of an explanation. 

“Kid,” he’d said. “This is your sister.” 

Luke hadn’t asked about the circumstances of Lahri coming to be—and Din hadn’t told him. He likes Skywalker. He’s good for Grogu, and has been able to teach him so much. Din’s never going to give up another child though. So he’d let Luke think what he wanted to think as he watched Grogu lie down next to Lahri in her crib, and had just revelled in the joy of having his children together at last. 

Now, Grogu and Lahri sit there on the bed, watching Lierra wriggle and kick her legs about. Lahri reaches out to stroke her sister’s hair, and Grogu follows her lead. He looks up at Din, seeking reassurance, and Din is powerless to do anything other than smile, tears springing to his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “Just like that.” 

Din’s heart is so, so full. The path he’d taken to get here had been rough in parts, and it was only during the past few months that he had really, truly begun to feel settled. Would he change any of it though? No. Not one moment.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


End file.
